Posts Tagged ‘people’

Since I seem to have writer’s block, I thought I’d take the easy way out today and update the “About Me” page. I wanted to give everyone 50 things about myself but I’m having trouble with that as well. It’s hard talking about oneself! So, the list is up in the about me section, but it’s incomplete. I’ll add to it as I think of more useless info to impart.

You know, every year I make 10 resolutions; none of which I manage to keep for longer than a week. So, what’s the point? All I’m doing is setting myself up for failure. Anyway, so this year I’ve decided to make only 2 resolutions, ones I really need to make, and ones I’m hopeful of success.

I hereby resolve to:

Clean up my language. I don’t exactly remember when or how it got so out of hand, but I really do have a foul mouth which is way uncool. I resolve to use alternative words for my four letter oopsies.

Get a better attitude. Become a nicer person. People think I’m sweet, kind, considerate, affectionate, and loving, when in reality, I’m hard as nails and have one great big fucking nasty attitude. A chip on my shoulder. I let people get to me all too often and then I hate myself for it. I know, doesn’t make much sense. But it has made me develop the attitude that says: Get away from me you dumbass fucker moron! You bother me! So I’m going to strive to be nice even if it kills me.

My friends and I were out back having lunch, having a grand time, until one of my friends, who happens to be black, brought up the old movie Amistad.

“You know,” she said in conversation, “all the trouble started when the whites first bought our people into slavery.”

“I don’t think so,” my other friend replied. “All the trouble started when the African people started selling off their prisoners as slaves to the whites.”

I didn’t say anything. I can’t stand conversations like that. And why my two friends choose to get into a debate over “whose fault it was,” is beyond me.

My white friend was not there to buy anyone, and my black friend was not there to be bought. Neither were their respective parents, or their respective parents’ parents.

Me thinks these two people just like to argue and quibble about anything having to do with history, but you’d think they could have picked a better topic; their chosen one served nothing except to get into a heavy duty argument that could not be resolved or agreed upon. These two, they haven’t very much to do, and with so much time on their hands, that they have to dig into the lives of four generations back or so, for some juicy stuff to argue over.

I didn’t say anything, of course. But I wanted to shout: WHO CARES? Quit the quibbling! I’m so tired of all the militant shit. And I’m so tired of all the arrogant defense.

I thought I had two friends. Turns out I have a slave and a merchant. Geez.